Soliloquy
by trufflemores
Summary: A brief soliloquy, if you will, on some things in Kurt's life that matter to him. Klaine. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

There are things that matter to Kurt. Things that he goes about a day-to-day basis contemplating – grocery lists, his next shift at the diner, Skype dates with friends, the newest Broadway musical, a fast-approaching deadline – and things that remain at the back of his mind, always present but rarely voiced. Things that he would miss if they didn't happen again and again, things that he would barely notice until they were gone.

For example, when the air conditioner goes out during the middle of a heat wave, he misses the cold. He misses shedding layers of sticky clothes and stepping into a refrigerated apartment to sluice off the remaining grime of the streets. He misses toeing off his boots and flexing his toes against the cool wooden floors, misses pressing his hands against cold countertops, misses sinking into the covers on their bed at night without feeling the muggy air bearing down on him. He misses it all until the longing becomes an ache, a palpable irritation that drives him to snappishness faster than a lukewarm coffee and late subway train _combined._

But once the AC kicks in again and things begin to return to normal, he finds himself stranded between the two emotions: guilt at projecting his frustration outward and relief that he no longer needs to. The process repeats itself seemingly indefinitely when a night shift cancels his evening plans unexpectedly or a taxi ride costs the spending money that he wanted to use on a new scarf. He fumes in silence, tension building underneath his skin until it bursts out of him, a trigger that needs only a feather light brush to snap.

Often biting but rarely cruel on such occasions, he lets his frustration over a pair of socks left unattended escalate until he's _angry_, snapping at Blaine or Rachel or whoever happens to be in the vicinity. As suddenly as the storm appears, however, it retreats, leaving him hollow, weary, and craving respite. They know, then, not to follow, to give him space and time to come back to the things that he needs more than he can express.

The fallout over his most recent fight with Blaine has already dissipated considerably by the time he steps back inside the loft. It's late – approaching midnight – and he doesn't see Blaine immediately, sitting up like he usually does. Kurt winces as he tucks his coat on the rack. He knows that he can be harsher than he means to – that bringing up Blaine's parents is never a fair fight – but Blaine fights back. It's difficult to remember, sometimes, that they are a team, and the end result is always mixed emotions at first and rising guilt as time passes.

Padding almost soundlessly across the loft, he hesitates outside the curtain, not sure which Blaine he'll have to confront. An apologetic Blaine is easy to placate; an angry Blaine, less so. He hates when Blaine cold-shoulders him. (He hates that he cold-shoulders Blaine sometimes, too.) A worried Blaine can lean towards either emotion, depending how the conversation goes, and a dismissive Blaine can re-ignite the fight with only a few misplaced words.

Kurt draws in a deep breath and pulls back the curtain in the same motion, revealing a sleeping Blaine, curled up in Kurt's hoodie.

Heart melting at the sight – and God, he's had a long day with not nearly enough coffee and far too many unexpected conflicts in between – Kurt pads forward quietly and sits on the bed beside him, recalling how much stress _Blaine _has been under recently, too.

They're young and Kurt forgets it, sometimes. He forgets his own limits, loses track of what matters, and encounters the emotions that he isn't proud of along the way. Some days he feels like he knows Blaine so well he can't imagine life differently, and other days Blaine is an enigma to him, forever unknown and unknowable, a beautiful mystery. He's captivated and used to Blaine simultaneously, aware of his quirks but forever learning about his newness, his ability to change and grow and learn different things.

He's growing, too, and he takes it for granted sometimes, that maybe the fights are growing pains and not fatal flaws in their humble, burgeoning life together.

They're young and they both forget the things that matter sometimes, Kurt knows, rubbing a hand along Blaine's arm. But he can't deny that this – that _these _are the things that he lives for, the certainties that he puts his trust in, regardless of how fierce the fights may or may not be.

Sliding into Blaine's arms carefully, he listens to his breathing and knows that while there are things that he won't be grateful for enough, he will always be grateful for the way that Blaine's arms curl around him, letting him back in no matter how far apart they drift; that his forgiveness will encompass any petty fight; and that his love will last for Kurt forever.


End file.
